Language lesson, a poem for H in the land of Zen

                                  Language Lessons

 

 I loved your language, the soft gentle sounds shushing me to sleep while you spoke on the phone

I was never alone

                     

I loved watching you write kanji so fast like a motion picture of ancient art that kept me in the dark

  And you so skilled you stood apart

 

I loved watching you bathe, a ritual as old as your ancestors, as water itself, to you so ordinary, to me, a baptism

              

I loved your culture, so defined, refined, a play where everyone knew their lines

 I loved watching you sleep, your aristocratic features shadowed in peace, your sweet release

 

 I loved making love to you, moving together in ancient rhythms so sacred it became my religion

 

  I loved watching you interact in your cultural boundaries, a world so foreign to me

Yet so civilized and intertwined

 

  I loved seeing your temples, your shrines, a world of isolation and annihilation

  I loved being a part of your inner circle you would protect from the castle invaders

 

  Like the Samurai, their lords

 Like a gentleman, their dogs

 

   Like the geisha their men

   Like the poet, their pen

 

 I loved being part of your world

  I could never really be a part of

 

  To live in a place where the tower of Babelexisted

    And the language of love was all that I needed

 

 

 

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